


Fancy A Rattle?

by BeingAPartOfSomethingSpecial



Category: Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gratuitous use of 50s slang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeingAPartOfSomethingSpecial/pseuds/BeingAPartOfSomethingSpecial
Summary: “What the fuck was that for?”“It was your fault! You challenged me to a fight.”“No you goof, get with it, I was asking you to dance!”Enjolras and Grantaire are part of rival gangs. There is swearing and dancing and miscommunication because 1950s slang was very confusing!





	Fancy A Rattle?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr post which can be found here http://r-and-his-apollo.tumblr.com/post/168727350997/steampunkepsilon-bassiter-while-looking-up
> 
> I thought it was hilarious and would work for Enjolras and Grantaire and so this happened

Grantaire ran his hand through his hair and glared at Eponine as she dragged them into the crowded dance hall. He hated it here, everyone was so prim and boring. The girls with their pastel dresses and high ponytails were everything Grantaire had hated about school and the guys weren’t much better.

But Eponine loved to dance and Grantaire was her best option as a chaperone. Montparnasse had offered once but wound up in a fight with a guy that ended with blood being spilled. He hadn’t been allowed back. But Grantaire could be trusted to hold his tongue and his temper and so, he became Eponine’s dance partner. He couldn’t begrudge her that, she hardly ever got time to herself and if she wanted to spend it twirling around a pastel princess hell that Grantaire would buck up and deal with it. 

He did know how out of place they both looked though. Their leather jackets and Eponine’s dyed hair made them stand out, as did the heavy eye make-up and they way she kept glaring at anyone that came too close.

“Stop glaring sweetcheeks or no-one’s gonna wanna dance with you,” Grantaire said with a laugh, already knowing the response he was about to receive.

“Maybe I don’t wanna dance with any of these germs,” she snapped back, flipping her middle finger up at him. He just laughed and grabbed her hand, dragging her to the dance floor. They had been dancing for a short while when Eponine froze and leant closer to Grantaire.

“Don’t look now but guess who just walked in?”

Grantaire racked his brains for an answer when suddenly he caught sight of a red flash as they whirled round. 

“You’re kidding? I’ve gotta be seeing things?”

“Nope. They’re here, a whole bunch-a Reds.”

Grantaire stopped dancing and nodded to the edge of the dancefloor. Eponine followed him, her purple poodle skirt flicking out behind her.

“What’d we do?” Grantaire asked as his eyes darted to the Les Amis that were stood near the door. Eponine rolled her eyes.

“We don’t do nothing,” she replied. “We got as much right to be here as they do. The dance hall’s fair game, you know that as well as they do.”

Grantaire nodded. “Okay, then more importantly, what do I do?”

“You act like a normal guy and don’t look at him?”

He laughed wryly. “You say that like I can ever keep my eyes off him.”

“It’s not my fault you’re real gone on him. Okay, your other choice is you go and talk to him, maybe ask him to dance, maybe something could happen. Who knows?”

“Me. I know. And anyway, what would Parnasse say if I did? He’s one of them.”

Eponine rolled her eyes again. “Fine, well, I’m gonna find myself a doll to dance with. You do whatever you wanna do.”

He watched her walk away for a while before his eyes drifted back to the group by the door. Les Amis. They were Parnasse’s enemies, and that meant they were Eponine’s enemies and by extension, Grantaire’s. They were everything Parnasse hated. Political. Righteous. Moral.

But Grantaire couldn’t help but find himself falling for their pretty leader. Blonde and tall and just rough enough around the edges that Grantaire knew they’d have fun of he ever got the chance. He was a rich boy that didn’t want mummy and daddy’s money. They were always fun. But he was also so much more than that. Grantaire knew that. He’d been watching him for months, watching the way he acted with his friends, because they were friends. Actual friends. Not like what he had with Parnasse and Babet and Claquesous. Closer to what he had with Eponine but still not quite.

Thinking of Eponine, he glanced around to try and spot her. She was in the centre of the dancefloor with a beautiful girl as blonde as the pretty leader in red. She had a pale pink princess dress on and her blonde hair was twisted over one shoulder. Eponine’s eyes met his as she spun the girl under her arm. She pushed her way through the crowd to get to him, pulling the girl along behind her.

“This is Cosette. She’s part of Les Amis. See how easy it is?” she said with a grin. Grantaire flipped his middle finger up at her and she laughed. Cosette looked between the two of them, a small smile on her face as she squeezed Eponine’s hand.

“Who’s this?” she asked. Eponine turned to her quickly.

“Grantaire. A friend of mine. He wants to ask one of your buddies to dance but he’s too scared.”

“Not too scared,” he said. “Suitably intimidated by both them and Parnasse.”

“Parnasse?” Cosette asked, her voice quiet.

“Montparnasse?” Eponine replied. “Patron-Minette? You know, lame-ass gang? Call themselves the ‘devils of crime’ even though the most dangerous thing they’ve done is nicked a few hub caps.”

Cosette giggled. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of them. You’re not caught up with them, are you? My daddy wouldn’t want me talking to criminals.”

Eponine spluttered out a quick explanation of how she wasn’t, she didn’t even know him, never met him. Cosette burst out laughing.

“I was joking, daddy doesn’t care. How could he with Enj the way he is?”

“Enj?” Grantaire asked. Cosette looked away from Eponine and narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah. Enj, my brother. Enjolras. Leader of Les Amis. He’s the blonde in the obnoxious red coat.”

Grantaire gulped. “Oh. Cool.”

Eponine let out a sharp bark of laughter she hadn’t been trying very hard to stifle. Cosette’s eyes darted back to her.

“What?”

“That’s the one that R’s gone for.”

“You’re kidding? Enj? But he’s a massive goof.”

Eponine grinned. “Yep, the very same! Let’s get back to dancing, we can leave R here to wallow.”

As she was dragged back into the throngs of people, Cosette looked over her shoulder.

“Wait? R as in Grantaire?”

Grantaire nodded slowly. She grinned.

“Definitely ask him, I can guarantee that he’ll say yes.”

Grantaire shook his head and went back to staring listlessly across the dance hall. The beautiful leader– Enjolras – was leant against the wall, his trademark red jacket slung over one shoulder as he talked to the tall guy with glasses and a waistcoat. A short guy wearing an over-sized denim jacket littered with pin badges hung off the tall guy’s arm. Grantaire didn’t completely know what it was they did. They seemed to be above the politics of rivalry and who owned what but then they defended their territory like dogs. They were more involved with actual politics but also seemed to spend most of their time getting arrested.

He soon realised that he’d been staring for too long or too obviously because when his eyes refocused, he realised the short one was staring right at him. He dragged his eyes away instantly, but it was too late. He was talking to the others and gesturing over to him. He took a deep breath. He’d already made a fool of himself, he might as well go all out.

He pushed his way through the crowd, running his hand through his hair again and straightening his jacket. He too-quickly found himself stood in front of the group. They all turned to look at him. He froze.

“You!” Enjolras said accusingly, pointing violently at him. Grantaire scoffed, his confidence coming back to him quickly.

“Hey there snake, fancy a rattle?” he said with a wink and a grin, holding out his hand. 

He didn’t see the punch coming, but suddenly the he was knocked back a few steps and he could feel the pain blossoming along his jaw. He reached up to cup his cheek and glared at the gorgeous man in front of him.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“It was your fault! You challenged me to a fight.”

“No you goof, get with it, I was asking you to dance!”

“Oh,” Enjolras’s voice was quiet and his face was flushed. His friends laughed loudly, the short one leaning into the tall one’s side.

“Oh Enj, you are a complete goof.”

“Fuck off Courf,” he replied, his face becoming impossibly redder.

Courf – the short one – only laughed harder at this. Enjolras grabbed his two friends and dragged them away from Grantaire, he kept glancing over his shoulder at him as the three of them whispered together.

“I say go for it,” Courf said with a grin over Enjolras’s shoulder.

“But I can’t! He’s one of them! He’s a, a, hoodlum!”

“I think you’ve been arrested more than he has Enj,” the tall guy interrupted. Courf laughed. Grantaire was starting to like the short one more and more.

“Ferre’s right honey. You’re not exactly a pinnacle of virtue yourself.”

“And you’ve been staring at him for the last half hour.”

“And every other time we’ve ever seen him!”

“Yeah, that too. You’re completely gone for -”

“Okay, stop!” Enjolras said loudly, pulling away from them. Ferre – the tall one – glanced at Grantaire before looking past him. He smiled wryly.

“I think,” he paused. “I mean, you’re probably gonna end up stuck with them regardless of if you take up this nice gentleman’s offer of a dance.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t look now but your sister looks pretty happy over there.”

Grantaire’s eyes widened as he glanced over shoulder just as Enjolras did to see Eponine and Cosette dancing happily in the middle of the room, Eponine’s hand low on Cosette’s waist. He looked back to see Enjolras glaring at him. Suddenly, he marched back towards him and stood towering over him. Grantaire took a step back.

“Hey Enj,” Courf said from behind him. “Stop scaring the poor boy and get on with it.”

Enjolras blushed again, glaring over his shoulder at his friend.

“What’d he mean?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras took a deep breath.

“Umm, actually I was wondering if your offer to dance was still, you know, on the table?”

“For you?” Grantaire said with a wink, holding out his hand in invitation. “Always.”

Just as Enjolras reached out to take Grantaire’s hand, a voice rang out.

“Oi, you lot! I heard there’d been a fight! Where are ya?”

Grantaire looked at Enjolras and laughed.

“I can’t get kicked out.”

“I can’t get arrested again.”

Grantaire turned and began pushing towards the back exit. He quickly realised that Enjolras wasn’t following him and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Enjolras stood a few steps behind him and laughed. He reached out a hand to him.

“You coming or not doll?”

Enjolras scoffed and glared half-heartedly at the hand in front of him.

“I’m so sorry good sir! Do you permit it?”

Enjolras’s hand slipped into his and they ran together out the back exit and down a side street. Grantaire stopped finally and leant against the wall, out of breath from running and laughing.

“So,” Enjolras said. Grantaire looked up at him. His blond hair looked gold where it was lit by the streetlamp and his eyes were bright with a joyful smile. He looked even more beautiful than Grantaire remembered ever having seen him look before. “You still want that dance?”

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun with the 1950s slang in this and also I have a lot more about these characters that I couldn't fit in so hit me up on tumblr @/r-and-his-apollo to cry about 1950s greaser!Grantaire who is the new love of my life


End file.
